be my escape
by lady-bluebeard
Summary: edmund/oc - a story that wasn't told within the pages of your childhood memories.
1. Prologue

I don't own anything.

* * *

Lady Violet.

The name had been flung across the lips of nearly every patron of Cair Paravel for weeks now. Certainly all of the court women, because she was to join them in the ranks. She had been picked for the sole entertainment of the youngest Queen, Lucy. Who found all of their current court ladies to be old and gossipy hags. (In some cases, they were _actually_ hags.) Or pinched snobs who were only there to giggle and flounce about her brothers. Ick.

Susan had found her. "It wasn't easy," Susan later recalled to Lucy, "What with your _requirements_."

Lucy knew she was bratty when she had made a list of traits she would like the girl to have. But, honestly, the Lady was only brought to court to be Lucy's friend. Why shouldn't she be involved? When she had handed the list to Susan, parchment thick with sprawled loopy cursive that she had been practicing, Susan had laughed out loud.

_1. Ought to be funny, and like jokes and frivolity._

_2. Should be nice, but not -(here she underlined)- __too__ nice._

_3. Should certainly like stories, and books._

_4. Should at least be semi intelligent, for my sake._

_5. Not too full of herself, nor boastful._

_6. Should be a bit close to my age._

_7. Wants to spend time with me, I should hope._

_Thank you, Su!_

It took nearly a month, and both sister were both certain it was a hopeless case. But then, oh fate, Susan was introduced to a girl named Violet at a small ball. She was a bit young - six and ten years old -. And had a dark tangle of hair, much like the flank of a horse, Susan thought.

They sat down and spoke together. Susan learned that she lived just outside Cair Paravel, in the woodlands. About how her father went around Narnia selling blacksmiths the metals they need to make weaponry, so he was hardly ever home. And with her mother busy taking care of her younger sisters, she was never, what shall you say, properly introduced into high society. But, as she grew older, she thought she ought to try on her own. And that this was one of her first few parties, which was how Susan met her.

"Lovely story." Susan said, politely.

"Was it fate, I wonder?" Violet laughed, quixotically.

After a while, Susan found her rather nice. But shy, perhaps too much. But then Violet would give her a sly look. Prankish. And silently mocking at the pompous Lord-Whoever was boring them with a ramble about his estate.

Susan knew she was perfect, then.

* * *

After she was first introduced to the court, everyone had an opinion. They all said she was either too ordinary, too strange, too quiet. They found her "too" a lot of things. They found it funny, Lucy and Violet. Couldn't a group of people, so adept at gossiping, decide if she was shy or brassy? Were they that oblivious that they couldn't decide which to dislike her for?

It became a joke between them: that they would hide away the "Real Violet" away from all those fops and leighsters. How some people kept their eyes on her at parties - inconspiciuously, of course - made them laugh. As if they would indeed see Real Violet if they stared hard enough. How the Nymphs and Fauns and Satyrs just about broke their necks watching, seeing how Violet interacted with the other court girls. Seeing how she could fit in amongst them.

"Doesn't the poor _dear_ realize how she looks?" One of them tsk-tsked, referring to her rather untamed appearance, adding, "She looks like one of those Telemarine gypsy women!"

They weren't all bad, however. Some thoughtfully defended her. "Oh, she's not so bad. A gypsy she looks, perhaps, but a cute gypsy. I couldn't very well imagine her with that hair tied in a chignon!" She'd laugh. The other would hide her sour disdain behind lipstick.

But, they got used to her after a while. Everything was peaceful. And, like so often happens with peace, it seemed like it would last forever. The spring competitions were coming up. And they felt like everything would always stay exactly like this, forever.

They were wrong, of course.

* * *

TO BE CONTINUED.


	2. Chapter 1

CHAPTER 1.

* * *

"This fight will be one to the death." Peter declared to the room. And it had quite frightened them at first. Until they noticed the goofy smile on his face, and their blood began to run warm again.

No, there wasn't someone invading the castle. Peter was talking about how Edmund and himself were going to face each other in a duel of the tournament. That is, if both of them defeated every one they were paired against. Which not a Narnian soul doubted. They were, needless to say, quite excited.

Edmund looked up, startled from his thoughts. They were being fitted for new armor, (which they constantly outgrew.) and Edmund nearly knocked over the gray old faun who was fiddling with the fitting of the chain mail. "I would think nothing less, Pete." He replied, with tenacity. Which was quite ineffectual as, with his widened brown eyes and, as of yet, oversized armor, he looked rather like a enthusiastic puppy.

"You ought not care who wins." Susan said. Which Peter snorted at.

Susan sat beside Lucy and Violet at the table, who had just returned from swimming. You could tell only by the way their hair, sopping wet, clung to their cheeks. Beads of water dropping down and made little puddles on the table top. Lucy smeared it around with her finger, doodling in it, until her sister shot her a dark look that screamed -_smears!- _and Lucy wiped it off with the sleeve of her dress.

Today was the first of Violet's two week stay at Cair Paravel, and she was enjoying it tremendously. For there was hardly a moment lacking in fun and friendly companionship. "Aren't you two tired of watching people weaponry for the tournaments? Why don't you go outside?" Susan asked, in that motherly way of hers.

"I'm not." Lucy said. "Nor am I," Violet added, quickly. "We find it very interesting." "Oh, you just find it interesting when it is for play, in stories." Edmund teased.

Okay, so maybe they didn't care for _every_ aspect. But that quite offended them. "Of course not!" Lucy huffed. "Just because we happen to be girls we can't like sword fighting."

They feigned a very exaggerated version of their outrage for laughs. "It is only because we're girls you say such cruel things!" cried Violet, throwing her face down in her palms. "It is men like you who have held ladies like us back in society!" Lucy accused, pointing her finger dramatically.

"I see no ladies." Edmund shot back. Violet laughed, "And I see no man."

* * *

The sky had become a dark orange as the evening grew long. Lucy and Violet and walked down to the stables, and were stopped at their own horses. (Or, rather, they were the horses own people.) Lucy's - a caramel colored mare named Dorothy. And Violet's - also a mare, gray and white, named Fiona.

"_Ahhh, _right there." Dorothy whinnied, indicating where Lucy ought to scratch behind her big ears. They laughed as she made happy sighs when she did.

"Are you going to try your luck in any of the contests?" Violet asked Lucy. "Maybe, but I think I like watching best. And cheering. Were you?" She said. "I was thinking about knife throwing, perhaps. I have been practicing, I'm not sure how well I am." "That'd be great. You should ask someone to help you." Lucy inflected. "Susan?" Violet asked, thinking of how well her aim is. "Edmund, rather - Su doesn't advocate competiton for fun. She'll only play to defend her bow and arrow title."

"You'll be great, Violet." Fiona said, cheerfully. "S'long as you don't miss and gouge someone." "Oh, no. Like William Tell, only with a tragic ending?" Dorothy asked. Fiona nodded her long head. "She'd stick the competitors like marshmellows over a flame." "How terrible!" Dorothy said, horrified. As if it had actually happened. "I appreciate the encouragement!" Violet sighed.

It was growing dark, and they soon went inside. Mumbling about the nerve of horses now-a-days.

* * *

Violet remembers this is where she first met Peter and Edmund. They seemed so young, in their crumpled shirts and cheeky grins, teasing one another for some reason she can't remember. Certainly too young to be kings.

They were quite opposite, where Peter was blonde and of a more muscular build, Edmund was dark haired, like his sisters, fair and lankier than his brother. Like a golden retriever and a husky. The same animal, only different.

"Did you bring any equine of your own?" Edmund had asked, after they'd all been introduced. "No, I'm afraid not." She'd answered, simply. She wasn't the best at thinking ahead, having taken a carriage with Lucy. "Well, Lady, you are in luck." Peter had said, nudging Edmund to lead the way.

And that's when she'd met Fiona, of course.

"And we were friends, right then, simple as that, right?" Fiona would say in the future, when Violet would recall the memory. "Same with Ed and Pete, too, right?"

Violet would smile and say, "Yes, simple as that."

* * *

TO BE CONTINUED


	3. Chapter 2

The light of the setting sun grew long, until it became shadow. Until the stars came out, bright and seemingly everlasting. They grinned down at the castle. It was deceivingly dark, with scarely enough light to see hardly anything at all. And Violet was glad she was staying put, and didn't have to venture out into it.

Lucy and Violet sat in the den. Cozy next to the fire. They talked about wolves and harpies and ghouls, creatures that would devour as fast as looking at you had you been caught in the darkness. They gave each other chills, though most of the terror was put on. Edmund sat in the corner with a book, keeping to himself quietly.

"Should we play a game, hm?" Lucy mused aloud, though sounding as if she was speaking to herself. Violet felt like being difficult, but was curious and could not help but wonder, so she asked "What sort of game?"

"A fantastic game, the most glorious game -" Lucy went on, buying for time.  
" - I suppose I should take that as you don't have an idea?" Violet laughed sardonically.  
"Heeey," Lucy began to protest, but she really _didn't _have an idea, so she didn't fuss.

The fire crackled, and staring at it warmed them from the inside out. "Ooo!" Lucy said, with inspiration. "How about a word association game? Susan told me about them, they are quite fun."  
"That's where you say a word, and the other persons says what that word makes 'em think of?" Violet asked.  
"Exactly," Lucy enthused. Violet agreed, "Alright, then. I'll start." The both of them sat upright, facing one another straight on.

"Scary?" Violet began.  
"Stories." Lucy finished.

"Alright then, dogs?" "Cats." Lucy said, satasfied with the answer.

"Um." Violet continued after a pause. "Milk?"  
"Honey."

"Head?"  
"Bed!" Lucy exclaimed.

At this, Edmund took notice and began to laugh. "You think in rhymes?" He asked Lucy, which made Violet start to laugh as well.  
"Oh, I couldn't help it!" Lucy complained mildly, "It was the first thing that I thought of." Violet nodded at Lucy, squeezing her lips shut trying to muffle the laughter that undoubtably escaped through.

"That's enough out of you." Lucy said, however, she was smiling a little. "It's my turn now."

"Okay," Lucy started, "Battles?"  
"War," Violet concluded, shuddering a little.

"Candy?"  
"Apples," Violet licked her lips playfully.

"Witches?" Lucy asked.  
"Villians,"

"Err, charming?"  
"Kings," Violet said.

And for several seconds the room was shocked into silence.

Violet became red to her ears, she herself seemed nearly the most startled by the revolation. Lucy seemed to be bursting that the seams from trying to hold in the laughter that threatened to burst out, unraveling her by the seams. Edmund was horrible and grinning. "I'm a king, do you think I'm charming?" He said, true to form. They were in such a fluster that no one noticed that even his cheeks were a bit pink.

"I meant the fictional sort, of course." Violet said, hastilly pulling a defense together. "Like you said: Me and Lucy are only interested in things in stories."

That was true, and for a moment Edmund was staggered. Lucy was impressed by her quick, however rambling, wit. Edmund though wasn't ready to let her off the hook. "No matter, a king is a king. Do try not to get swoony." He teased.

"Oh, no need to worry about that. You are perhaps the most ghastly, horrendously _un_charming king in all of Narnia and beyond." Violet said, but now they were all laughing, and grinning kindly. She added, "Even _Peter _is more charming than you, and for a king he is a fumbling, silly sort." Which made them all choke with laughter.

The room was full of relief; the ice broken. The game made Violet think of when they had met, and Lucy had kept asking her the most random questions.

* * *

"What's your favorite color?" Lucy'd asked.

"Blue," She'd answered, with some finality, before adding, "And purple."  
"Favorite meal?" Lucy prodded further.  
"I don't know, uh, dumplings? With chicken?"  
"Mmhmm, favorite animal?"  
"Horses, perhaps, though I like badgers," She said, before grinning and adding, "And lions, of course."  
"Spoken like a true Narnian!" Lucy had declared, and they'd laughed.

* * *

After both being humilated by turns, Lucy and Violet decided that it wasn't the best game to play. So they just sat together, warming their toes by the fireplace. "I need your help," Violet suddenly remembered, turning to Edmund, "As much as I do hate to admit it."

Edmund was torn between complaint and gloating. "What possibly for?" He asked, cocking an eyebrow.  
"You can throw stuff, right?" Violet asked. Edmund looked up, a face full of mild confusion. "Huh? Be more specific."  
"Knives." Violet cleared up, her face animated. "I want to be in the knife throwing competition, but I need someone to make me better first."

Edmund smirked a little, "I'd hate to be competing against you, you'll probably end up stabbing someone."  
"Why does everyone keep saying that?!" Violet bellowed, furrowing her brows. Lucy watched this whole humorous discussion with a hidden smile.

"Well, will you help me or what?" Violet asked, impatiently.  
"Why should I?" Edmund asked.  
Violet huffed, "Come _on_, I'll owe you." She pleaded. "I'll owe you _a ton._"  
Edmund stared at her, and she stared back, begging and pouting.  
"Fine ! But I'll take you up for that debt."

Violet let out a squeal of rejoice, and Edmund muffled his ears and sighed loudly. "Yeah yeah, I hope you know you'll have to get up early - I'm not rearranging my whole day for you, so it has to be before breakfast."

Violet froze, clamping her mouth shut and turning to Edmund. When she spoke, it came out as a terrified pip.

"_That _early?"  
TO BE CONTINUED.


End file.
